Body Check

by Matt Christopher

  “You hit him from behind, and he hit you from in front. Keep playing,” snapped the coach. Vic turned to look at his father, but Coach Seabrook didn’t say a word. Meanwhile Brent had the puck and passed to Gavin. Gavin saw Gil coming toward him and feinted to his left. Gil tried to check Gavin, but Gavin slid by him and put a shot into the net for a point.

  Ten seconds later, Brent put a hard check on Vic for 2 more points. When Coach Maxwell blew the whistle to end the drill, Brent and Gavin had 7 points to 1 point for Vic and Gil. Gil had managed to score a goal, but Vic had lost 4 points for two illegal checks.

  After everyone had had a chance to try the check drill, Coach Maxwell said, “If we give away power plays to the Cyclones, it’ll cost us. I saw their game last week, and their power play is really solid. So watch out for those fouls, guys. We can’t afford to give them an edge like that. Everyone, take a break, and when we come back we’ll have a scrimmage.”

  During the break, the team broke into small groups in the same way as they had before practice. Brent sat on a bench with Arno, Gavin, and Sandy. Across the rink, he saw Cam, Vic, Barry, and a couple of others having a very lively conversation. At one point, Cam looked up and saw Brent looking at him.

  They stared at each other for a few seconds. Brent thought that Cam had a sad expression on his face, but they were too far apart for him to be certain. Then Cam turned away and began talking to Vic again.

  Brent hoped that Cam had felt bad. Because he sure did. Hockey had been a lot more fun a couple of days ago.

  10

  After the break, Coach Maxwell organized an intrasquad scrimmage, six-on-six, just like in a regulation game. There were also several reserves for each squad.

  “Everyone will play,” the coach assured the reserves. “We’ll practice some on-the-fly changes, and I’ll also take breaks every few minutes to make substitutions and go over some strategies that we need to work on. And I want to thank our volunteer officials for the day. Mr. Jeffords teaches physical education at the high school, and he’ll be our referee. And Mr. Wallace, our linesman, has worked as a hockey official for years. They were nice enough to give us some of their time this afternoon.

  “These men will call the scrimmage just like a game. Players will be called for penalties when they occur. If that happens, the player will have to leave the ice, just like in a game. And we’ll work on power plays and penalty killing. Here’s how I’m splitting the team.”

  The coach read off the names of the players on each squad. Among the Badgers playing with Brent were Cam, Gavin, Sandy, Arno, and Chip, their goalie. Coach Maxwell would be in charge of this group. Vic, Ted, Barry, Gil, and Max, the other Badger goalie, were among the players on the other squad, which would be under Coach Seabrook.

  The two squads gathered with their coaches for a quick huddle. Coach Maxwell said, “Play hard, just like this was a game. I won’t let you burn yourselves out; I’ll substitute and call plenty of time-outs. Gavin, you’re my starting center. Brent and Sandy will be the wings. The starting defensemen are Cam and Arno, and Chip… guess you know where you’ll be.”

  Chip, who was wearing all his pads and carrying his mask, grinned. “Guess so.”

  “We’ll play twenty minutes, like a regular period, except we’ll have more time-outs than the one that the rules allow in a period,” the coach continued. “Anyone have any questions before we start?”

  “I have one,” said Cam. “You said we should play like this was a game, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Coach Maxwell said. “Don’t hold anything back.”

  “So, we’re supposed to play to win?” asked Cam.

  Brent turned to look at Cam. Cam was staring at the coach.

  The coach’s voice remained calm. “I’ve always expected my team to play to win. I still do. Does that answer your question?”

  “Yeah… I mean… ” — Cam started to say more but stopped — “Yeah. It does.”

  “All right, then,” said Coach Maxwell. “Let’s get started.”

  The starters for both squads got on the ice. Gavin and Ted faced each other in the center face-off circle. Chip and Max skated to the goals at the ends of the rink. The rest of the squads lined up around the circle. Mr. Wallace crouched between the centers, holding the puck. This was always Brent’s favorite moment, just before the action started. For a moment, he forgot all about the things that had been bothering him and thought only about playing.

  Mr. Wallace blew a blast on his whistle and dropped the puck. Gavin’s stick jabbed forward, but Ted got more power into his move and shoved Gavin’s stick away, pulling the puck back and controlling it. He flipped a pass out of the circle to Cam. Brent skated out to his right. Cam saw him and sent a perfect backhand pass that Brent took in. He moved down the ice, over the red line. Out of the corner of his eye, Brent saw Gavin outskate Vic and move down the ice. Brent left a drop pass for him just as Barry veered into Brent and forced him toward the boards and away from the action. Brent eluded Barry by making a sliding stop so that Barry’s momentum carried him farther down the ice. Now Brent was able to turn back toward the blue line.

  In the meantime, Gavin found Sandy with a flip pass, and Sandy carried the puck over the blue line into the offensive zone. Max moved forward, blocking much of the goalmouth with his body and stick. Gil circled around Sandy from the left and tried to poke the puck away from Sandy’s stick. Sandy pulled the puck back and dropped a pass to Arno, who had come up behind him.

  Arno fired the puck toward the goal. Max easily deflected it away with his blocker. The puck bounced toward the boards behind the goal. Brent raced after it. So did Barry, who reached the puck first and sent it caroming around the boards and back out toward the blue line. Gil picked it up, and suddenly the game was moving in the other direction.

  Brent pivoted and started back the other way, looking for a good defensive position. He noticed Cam skating backward, staying with Gil, looking for the chance to take away the puck. Suddenly, Brent spotted Barry coming up fast, with nobody on Brent’s team nearby. Gil saw it, too, and sent a pass to his right, where Barry could pick it up and move it deep into scoring territory.

  Brent sprinted full-speed, hoping to cut Barry off before Barry could break away for an open shot on goal.

  Wham! He was no longer on his feet but smack on his belly, sliding on the ice. He rammed into the boards, hitting shoulder first.

  He lay there dazed. He heard the shrill sound of a whistle, but it seemed to come from a long distance away. Then he heard a voice.

  “Brent! Hey, you all right?”

  It sounded like Cam, but Brent wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure whether or not he was all right either. He’d try to get to his feet; then he’d know if he was okay.

  “Just a second. Don’t try to move yet.” That voice, he knew, was Coach Maxwell’s. Brent opened his eyes and realized that he was lying near the boards with the coach kneeling next to him.

  “Can you hear me?” the coach asked, peering at him anxiously.

  “Yeah,” Brent said. “I… I think I’m all right. I mean, I can hear, and I can see anyway.”

  “Well, that’s a start. Looks like you took the impact on your shoulder pads. Let’s get you sitting up.”

  With the coach’s help, Brent got into a sitting position. He noticed that the rest of the team was standing behind Coach Maxwell, staring at him, looking worried. Even Cam looked worried, which was good to see.

  “What happened?” Brent asked.

  “You tripped,” said the coach, checking Brent for cuts or scrapes. “I think you can stand up. Come on, I’ll give you a hand.”

  A moment later, Brent stood up. He tried moving his arms and legs and was pleased to find that everything worked and that he felt no major pains anywhere. “I’m okay.”

  The coach nodded. “I think you are. But I won’t take any chances. I want you on the bench for a bit. I’ll bring Neil in for you for now. Come on.”

  With the coach by his
side, Brent slowly skated off the ice. Players clapped and said things like “Way to go!” and “All right!”

  As Brent sat down and watched the squads prepare for a face-off in the circle nearest to where the action had stopped, Brent turned to the player next to him.

  “How’d I trip? Did you see?”

  The player, a first-year guy named Darryl, said, “You’d almost caught Barry when he looked like he had a breakaway, and then Vic tried to catch you from behind, but he isn’t real fast, so there was no way, you know? So, he like, reached out with his stick, and… ”

  Brent stared at the other boy. “He hooked me? With his stick?”

  “Yeah,” Darryl said. “He caught your ankle with it. He’s over in the penalty box now. We got a power play out of it anyway.”

  “Did it look like he tripped me up on purpose? Could you tell?” asked Brent.

  Darryl hesitated. He looked at the ice and back at Brent, then finally said, “I don’t know. I mean, the guy… he’s clumsy, you know? So maybe he just lost his balance. I couldn’t say. I don’t think he was out to hurt you. He just wanted to stop you.".

  Brent thought about it and realized that Darryl was right. Whatever Vic had wanted to do, the dude hadn’t deliberately set out to hurt him. Still, no matter what Vic had wanted to do, Brent might well have been hurt when he crashed into the boards.

  A couple of minutes later, Coach Maxwell called “Time-out!” and went over to check on Brent. “You ready to come back in?” he asked.

  Brent stood up. His upper arm felt a little sore, but otherwise he was fine. “Definitely,” he said.

  “Right,” said the coach, “you’re in for Arno after the time-out.”

  After the time-out, Brent’s squad took the puck and Cam brought it across the blue line into their offensive zone. He held it for a moment, looking for an open man. Barry skated out to confront him, but before he got close, Cam sent the puck rocketing behind the goal.

  Brent sped after it. But Max left the goalmouth to take the puck away. He tapped it to Burt, who was in as a defenseman. Burt started the puck the other way, taking it toward center ice. Before an offensive play could get along, the whistle sounded. Barry was ruled offside, having crossed the red line before Burt had gotten there with the puck. The squads faced off at the closest circle.

  The play moved back and forth without either side being able to score. Chip made one beautiful save on a shot by Ted, sliding across the crease and just getting the end of his stick on the puck before it got into the net.

  “One more minute!” called Coach Maxwell as Brent took the puck after Chip had knocked it away from the crease. He gave it to Cam and headed down the ice. Cam passed to Darryl, who had come in a moment earlier. Darryl avoided Vic’s poke check and crossed the blue line to center ice, with Brent on his left and Cam on his right. Cam veered behind Darryl, who dropped the puck onto Cam’s stick. Cam flicked it to Brent who got across the red line, while Barry tried to force Brent off the puck. Brent fired to Gavin, who moved into the offensive zone and slapped a long shot at the goalmouth.

  Max blocked it with his stick, and the puck caromed off to the left of the crease. Cam was the first one to get to the puck. He sent a pass back to Gavin, ten feet in front of the net. Gavin slipped a shot that tumbled into the goal, just over Max’s outstretched leg, for the first and only goal of the scrimmage. Gavin’s squad-mates gave him a series of high-five and pats on the back.

  A few seconds after the face-off that followed, Coach Maxwell blew his whistle and called “Time!” The scrimmage was over.

  “Everybody, group up over here,” called the coach. When the team was gathered around him, he said, “That was excellent! I saw a lot of good, hard work out there. Good passing, hard checks, and teamwork. Play like that against the Cyclones, and you’ll give them a real fight. You should all feel good about what you did today.

  “Take a quick break, and we’ll use the rest of the time to work on some special plays.”

  Cam tapped Brent on the shoulder. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, it wasn’t serious. I feel a little sore, that’s all. But I wasn’t really hurt.”

  Ted, who had overheard what Brent said, sarcastically muttered, “Yeah, I guess Vic’ll have to try harder next time.”

  Cam spun around to face the other boy. “Hey! What are you trying to say?”

  Ted didn’t back off. “Brent could’ve broken an arm! And you know it!”

  “Yeah, well, he didn’t! Anyway, what happened was an accident!” snapped Cam.

  “An accident, huh?” said Ted. “Is that so? Brent, did Vic come over to ask how you were? Did he say he was sorry?”

  Brent shook his head. “No.”

  “I didn’t think he did,” Ted said, his eyes fixed on Cam. “You know what? I’m not sure it was an accident! That’s the kind of dirty play his father wants us all to do! Vic keeps having these ‘accidents,’ have you noticed? I don’t like it!”

  “Guys, cool it,” Brent said, feeling caught in the middle. “This isn’t right.”

  Ted turned to Brent. “Well, do you think it was an accident? Or did he trip you on purpose?”

  Both boys looked at Brent, waiting for his answer. Brent wanted, more than anything else, to sound fair.

  “I guess Vic isn’t the world’s greatest skater, and I really don’t believe he was out to hurt me.”

  Cam nodded, and Ted looked angry.

  “But,” Brent went on, “I also think that when you try to break the rules, it’s easier for people to get hurt. And it doesn’t matter if it’s accidental or on purpose. And that’s one of the things I don’t like about the way Coach Seabrook wants us to be ‘winners.’”

  Now it was Ted’s turn to look pleased and Cam’s to frown.

  “That’s not fair!” he said. “Coach Seabrook isn’t trying to get anyone hurt, and you know it!”

  “I didn’t say he was trying to —” Brent started.

  But Ted interrupted. “He says it’s okay to break rules as long as you don’t get caught! You think that’s all right?”

  Other players were watching Ted and Cam, whose voices got louder with each exchange.

  “He knows how we can be champs.” Cam’s face was red, and his fists were clenched. “I’m tired of playing with a bunch of losers!”

  Ted’s eyes got wide. “You think we’re a bunch of losers, huh? Then why don’t you just quit? Who needs you?”

  “I’m not going to quit! But maybe you should, if you don’t care about winning!”

  “Cut it out!” Coach Maxwell stepped between the two boys. He looked at each of them in turn. Both Cam and Ted suddenly looked embarrassed.

  Standing in the midst of the players, Coach Maxwell didn’t seem angry as much as sad. He ran a hand through his hair and said very softly, “I don’t know… maybe I don’t know this team anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, Coach,” Ted said, “I was totally out of line.”

  He offered his hand to Cam, who shook it. Cam said, “I didn’t mean to yell.”

  Coach Maxwell said, “I don’t know why some of you guys think I don’t want the team to win. I know I never said anything like that. Nobody’s happier when you win a game than I am. All I’ve been saying is that I don’t see winning as the only important goal. Especially not for people your age. Sports are supposed to be fun. That’s the bottom line, I always thought.

  “But maybe times have changed, and I’m out of step. If I am… then maybe you’d be better off with a coach who’ll give you what you want. I don’t know.”

  “No!” Brent’s shout startled several players, including himself. “Don’t talk about that! We need you. You’re the one we want to coach the Badgers!”

  Several other boys spoke out in agreement. But some didn’t say anything at all, and one of the silent ones was Cam.

  After a moment, Cam spoke. “I don’t think anybody wants you to leave, Coach. But if having another guy around can make us better, what’s wr
ong with that? Why shouldn’t we be the best team we can be?”

  Coach Maxwell smiled, “I want this team to be the best it can be, too, Cam. I guess the question is, what does ‘the best’ mean?”

  Cam blinked, as if he couldn’t believe such a dumb question. “The best is the team that wins the most. That’s right, isn’t it?”

  “Seems so to me,” said Coach Seabrook.

  “Right!” agreed Vic.

  “Does anyone have a different opinion?” asked Coach Maxwell.

  “If you’re playing as well as you can, then you’re the best… well, the best you can be anyway,” Brent said. “That’s what I want for my team.”

  Several boys started talking at once, some agreeing with Cam and others with Brent.

  Coach Maxwell held up a hand to quiet everyone down. “I think we need to have a team meeting to talk about this some more,” he said. “I want to set it up for tonight, if possible, after dinner. How does that sound?”

  The players looked around at each other. Most of them were willing.

  “Can parents come, too?” asked Arno.

  “I wish they would,” Coach Maxwell replied. “I’ll arrange a room at the middle school and let people know where and when.” He looked at his watch. “Until then, let’s wrap it up with some stretching. Everyone, in the locker room.”

  The team filed off the rink quietly.

  Later on, Cam’s mother picked up Brent and her own son. There was little talk between the boys on the drive home. Brent was thinking about what was going to happen to the Badgers and whether he’d still feel like it was his team after that evening. He was pretty sure that the same thoughts were going through Cam’s mind as well.

  Brent hoped that they’d both feel that they were teammates and friends after the meeting was over.

  11

  Just before dinner, Coach Maxwell phoned the Mullen house to say that the meeting was set for that evening and that parents and boys were urged to be there if they could.

  “I don’t get it,” Lee said, once the family was at the table. “Coach Maxwell has been running the team for a long time, and there were no complaints. What’s going on?”